


13 Ways of Looking at a Zombie

by lucidscreamer



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Black Summer, Cannibalism (Implied), Dark Humor, Gen, Inspired by Poetry, POV Third Person Omniscient, Parody, Poetry, Season/Series 01, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, none of the cast is mentioned by name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4911742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucidscreamer/pseuds/lucidscreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>O thin men of Black Summer,<br/>Why do you imagine golden arches?</p>
            </blockquote>





	13 Ways of Looking at a Zombie

I 

Among twenty rotting skyscrapers,   
The only moving thing   
Was the eye of the zombie. 

II 

I was devoid of thought,   
Like a morgue  
In which there are three zombies. 

III 

The zombie whirled in the storm's vortex.   
It was a small part of the zee-nado.

IV 

A worm and the earth   
Are one.   
A worm and the earth and a zombie  
Are one. 

V 

I do not know which to fear,  
The horror of gnashing teeth   
Or the horror of silence,  
The zombie groaning   
Or just after. 

VI 

Broken glass filled the long window   
With barbaric teeth.   
The shadow of the zombie   
Crossed it, to and fro.   
The urge  
Traced in its shadow   
An indefatigable hunger.

VII 

O thin men of Black Summer,  
Why do you imagine golden arches?  
Do you not see how the zombie  
Walks around the feet   
Of the corpses about you? 

VIII 

I know crowded cities   
And mindless, inescapable hordes;  
But I know, too,   
That the zombie is involved   
In what I know. 

IX 

When the zombie lurched out of sight,   
It marked the edge   
Of one of many graves. 

X 

At the sight of zombies   
Glowing with green light,   
Only the foolish clod   
Would break wind sharply. 

XI 

He rode over the Badlands  
In a golf cart.   
Once, a fear pierced him,   
In that he mistook   
The shadow of his equipage  
For zombies. 

XII 

The dust is billowing.  
The zombies must be migrating. 

XIII 

It was evening all afternoon.   
It was snowing   
And it was going to snow.   
The zombies lurked   
Among the abandoned cars.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Wallace Stevens' poem "13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird."


End file.
